A Secret Chord
by SweetNoir
Summary: Neville finds magic in music, and a love he thought he'd never see. SLASH NLHP Fluff One-shot


Title: A Secret Chord

Summary: Neville finds magic in music, and a love he thought he'd never see.

Pairing: NL/HP

Genres: Romance, Fluff, One-Shot

Rating: G

Warnings: MAJOR Fluff ^^

Disclaimer: Characters and situations aren't mine, unfortunately. *pouts*

A/N: A fluffy little fic inspired by the first line of the song "Halleluja" by Jennifer Terran. Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think! 3 Belle

Sometimes at night, Neville heard a piano in the fourth floor west corridor.

He first noticed it at the beginning of his sixth year, wandering the halls in the wee hours of the morning to get his mind off a particularly vicious nightmare. It was just a few broken chords, choppy as if the player were new at it and just learning. It seemed odd to Neville – he wasn't aware there were any musical instruments at Hogwarts, and a piano wasn't something a student could stick in his trunk and bring from home.

Neville stood and listened to the music for a while. Despite its roughness, it had a kind of determined quality to it that Neville found quite appealing. It seemed as though the player was bent on mastering the song no matter how much practice it took. Neville felt like he could almost recognize the player just from that quality, but the identity remained hidden, like a photo that was out of focus and he couldn't quite make out those pictured.

This felt strangely right. Neville didn't want to discover the identity of the player. The playing was private, and while Neville enjoyed listening to it, he felt like knowing who was playing would be an intrusion.

The fourth floor west corridor became a regular stop during Neville's nighttime wanderings. Most nights the player was there again, steadily improving and expanding his repertoire. Neville could stand and listen for hours as the notes echoed down the hall. The music never lost its determined quality, and each night Neville felt like the picture of the player's identity grew steadily more focused. He almost feared that one night he would realize who the player was. He knew if that night ever came, he would not be able to keep coming back to listen. The magic would be lost.

Each night, Neville's love for the player also grew.

He didn't realize what the feeling was at first. He assumed what kept him coming back was the music, which he certainly did enjoy. Over time, however, he slowly began to realize that it wasn't the music; it was the player. He felt as though he knew the player better than he'd ever known anyone, by listening to the player's music. He recognized that the single-mindedness with which the player practiced would also be applied in every other area of the player's life. He understood the need to escape the hectic turmoil of school and the war, and the release that playing – and listening to – music provided.

Through the music, they were connected, and through that connection, Neville loved the player.

One night later in the year, as Neville stepped into the corridor, the music seemed louder than usual. This confused Neville. Had the player amplified the music? Why would he do that? Did he want someone to hear?

Then Neville realized that a door at the end of the corridor was cracked open, and light spilled out into the dark hallway from behind it.

Neville walked hesitantly toward the door. Had the player forgotten to close it? Neville wasn't sure he wanted to go any closer, in case he saw the player and discovered his identity – but his feet didn't stop moving. They took him right up to the door, where his hand reached out of its own accord to open the door further.

He blinked a few times as his eyes grew accustomed to the brightness of the room. It was bare, save for the piano in the middle. The player sat behind it, familiar messy black head bent over the keys as he played.

"Took you long enough."

Neville's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before he replied. "What?"

"It's been months. The wards told me you were out there, listening. I've been waiting for you to come in. After so long, I decided you needed a little help, so I put a mild compulsion charm on the door."

"I –"

Wide green eyes rose to meet his, and the playing stopped. "Why didn't you come in? Earlier, I mean?"

"I didn't want the magic to end," Neville found himself saying. He wondered if the compulsion charm was still in effect, or if he was just incapable of lying to those eyes.

The player's brows furrowed in the most adorable confused look Neville had ever seen. "What magic?"

"In the music. I – it seemed like – if I knew who was playing, the magic would be…lost."

The player cocked his head and looked Neville over, then stood and walked around the piano to stand in front of him. Neville waited with some trepidation.

The player leaned up on his toes and brushed his slightly chapped lips over Neville's. Neville felt something wonderful burst inside him. He moaned like a dying thing and wrapped his arms around the player, crushing the slight form to him and deepening the kiss. Their tongues battled for dominance, though the player's seemed perfectly content to stroke his lovingly as it pushed into his warm, welcoming mouth.

When air became a necessity, Neville pulled away and gasped, "Harry –"

The smile returned. "So…is the magic gone?"

Neville gazed in wonder at the beautiful man in his arms and yet again found himself unable to lie to those eyes – not that he wanted to. "No. It's not gone."


End file.
